Of Paws, Pain and Possession
by icesodameow
Summary: Sam, Dean and Castiel are on the top of the most 'wanted' list of angels, demons and monsters alike. An idea forms in Team Free Will and they soon take on the meatsuits of man's best friend to lessen their noticeability. Author's note- Sam died from finishing Crowley's trial and became a Spirit Guide (a special spirit which can possess anything)
1. Where's Dean?

_Lately, I've been; I've been losing sleep..._

* * *

"Cas!"

Sam's voice was hoarse from barking which worsened his fraying sanity. He howled in anguish and began to break into a gallop.

On the blood-stained floor, lying on his side, was a black and white border collie. His fur, which would usually be billowing out in creamy tendrils of white and black now lay matted and dirty as if he had taken a ride in a garbage truck. It didn't help that he had just participated in a blood feud.

The over-sized Leonberger had gone mad with worry, and he raised a brown-padded paw to poke at the lifeless canine, before a wheezy noise was hurriedly forced out of the weak thing.

"Sam. I am alright"

The larger dog's muzzle trembled into a relieved smile and the long mass of fur behind his rear began wagging in gleeful sweeps.

Panting heavily, Castiel braced his weight against his forelegs as he made a wobbly attempt to stand up; successfully, but movement ate at his strength. Glancing awkwardly down at the ground, his head craned in an unnatural position, he hobbled towards the Leonberger like a furred rag balancing on pegs.

Delving his snout into Sam's hazel-streaked fur, he remembered Dean and his condition just before the three had passed out from the blood-induced possession.

"Where is Dean!"

The Border collie attempted to move a little too quickly and he began walking in jarring movements; his blood-combed paws thudding down on the floor in disproportionate places.

Sam's hope deflated and he hurriedly maneuvered himself under Castiel's belly to prevent him from collapsing.

"Whoa, whoa, easy there Cas- we'll find my brother- but you need to take it a bit slower"

Such rapid movement had drained Castiel's ability to move again and he slumped sadly across a bed of Sam's fur, his eyes glazing over and becoming stolid.

"You don't understand...Dean...I-I need-you..."

"Cas" A cracked whisper escaped Sam's throat.

"Hang in there."


	2. Demons don't go into comas

_Dreaming about the things that we could be..._

* * *

"Son of a bitch! Crowley, get the hell out will you."

"Where's Moose?"

"I don't know where Sam is but when I wake up from this coma I will find him- Hang on; since when do demons go into comas?

"You're not an ordinary demon, Dean."

"Oh yeah- that's right, I've got the Mark of Cain or whatever- so how do I wake up?"

"I'll help you. But first we need to have a rather simple deal. After you wake up, come to this same house before the end of day.

"Wait a second- Oh where the bloody hell did you go..."

* * *

Castiel had finally came to after Sam shook him rather vigorously awake.

"Cas, I've found Dean!"

The border collie's limp form began to tremble into life, and his lids which were sealed tightly shut flickered open like blue suns being kindled. His paws crept their way off Sam's back and, unfortunately, he landed on the floorboards with a noise akin to a bag of bones being dropped to the ground. Dismissing Sam's attempts to help him, he crawled sluggishly towards Dean's lifeless body.

At a distance, the Malinois did not look too bad, rather he appeared as a dirty stray taking a nap. Up close, the decorations of cuts and wounds began to show themselves as evidence of a real and horrifying attack.

Castiel uttered a weak whine that sounded like his throat was made of fraying rope and someone was picking at the strands.

"Dean."

The collie's fear motivated Sam to participate in licking and prodding at Dean in different places.

His unresponsive state- no pulse, heartbeat or sign of movement or breathing-lit a growing madness in both.

"Dean...!"

Sam howled in distress and began forcefully nudging at his brother. Castiel; too weak to howl, simply buried his muzzle in Dean's chest while breathing rather quickly- as his vessel had the inability to shed tears.

Meanwhile inside Dean's head, Crowley's voice and thoughts began to slur and waver into incomprehensible noises, which began to include other sounds jumping into the mixture of odd audio. These sounds began to clear slowly, and the word 'Dean' began to repeat in his head again and again.

"DEAN!"

The Malinois jolted into oblivion, the blackness suffocating his eyes suddenly erasing away to a blurry scene of rickety floor-boards and ramshackle, blood splattered walls. Two dogs were positioned in front of him, one was barking worriedly in his face and the other had its snout nuzzled in the sinewy build of his vessel.

Dean's hearing and vision suddenly switched themselves to their original settings and he recognised the Leonberger's vessel to be his brother and, well, who else would the little collie; violating his personal space (in an oddly pleasurable way)- be?


End file.
